Dance On Our Graves
by foxyhawes
Summary: Post-'Greater Love'. "With shaking hands and a trembling lip, you pick your phone up once again and begin dialling a number you remember from all the other times you'd been tempted to call him." Mostly H/N but based on the aftermath of Leo's death.
1. Chapter 1

**Can't put my feels into words. RIP Leo Dalton.**

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**Dance On Our Graves: Part 1  
**_I need you now,_**  
**_I need you more than ever before._

The door opens and you take a step inside, the air thick with loss and need. Your movements are weighed down by the monumental change that has just occurred, you can barely think. Even taking steady breaths is a struggle.

Nothing will ever be the same again.

You kick your heels off, let your coat slip off your shoulders, abandon your suitcase by the doormat and release a long, shaking sigh. The silence of your surroundings, compared to the thoughts inside your head, slices through you like a blade.

Pictures. Everywhere. On your walls and windowsills. Pictures of the three of you. The two of you. Just you. When you were young and naive and could take the world out with a single blow. Lifeless smiling faces printed onto glossy paper, crushed beneath layers of glass. The people within them long gone.

Leo's last act of selflessness had been, as well as for everyone else, for you. You, Nikki Alexander, along with all the times you two had disagreed or you'd pushed him away when you needed him most. All the times you were alone and breaking inside and he was the only one to help.

He saved your life. Like a father would for his child.

He'd picked you up and put you back on your feet when Harry left. He'd helped you stay strong. Leo Dalton was your saviour, for more reasons than one, purely because he was there when everyone else had left.

Numbness sets around your heart; saving it from damage and the constant ache that will inevitably remain for as long as you live. You regain control of your limbs and drag yourself through to your living room, collapsing on the sofa as if the weight of the world is pushing you down. You fish your phone out of the pocket on your jeans and place it on the coffee table in front of you. This is the moment you've been dreading. The haunting period, the time when the demons of regret come for you.

You can't eat. You can't sleep. You can't think about anything except the sound of the blast and the look in Leo's eyes before they were gone. You replay it in your mind over and over until it becomes a mush of screams and smoke, thinking of all the things you should've done to save him. You think of the things Harry would've done if he was in that situation, and suddenly crave the feel of his arms around you once more.

A moment of painfully soul-destroying realisation grips your lungs and practically squeezes them. That's when it occurs to you: Harry doesn't know.

With shaking hands and a trembling lip, you pick your phone up once again and begin dialling a number you remember from all the other times you'd been tempted to call him. He answers quicker than usual, the phone on the other end of the line only ringing twice.

"Hello?" He says in a questioning tone, waiting patiently for a reply as the words fail to form on your tongue.

"Harry?" You whisper.

"Oh my God, Nikki, is that you? It's so good to hear from you! Christ, it must be late over there-"

"Harry-"

"I've been meaning to call your for so long, sorry, I've just been so busy at the moment. How are you? And Leo? How are the newbies fitting in?" Harry rambles, his voice unusually upbeat.

"Harry, stop for a minute... I need to tell you something."

You can hear his breaths as they become slightly erratic, like panic is setting in already upon hearing your worried tone.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice laced with confusion. "You're scaring me now, Niks, what's happened?"

"It's Leo," you say at last, your voice cracking and tears threatening to fall. "He's gone."

"Gone? Gone where?"

You were right to dread this. You knew since Harry was unlikely to ever return and Leo wasn't as young as he used to be that you'd have to have this conversation at some point. There's something about the cruelness of the situation and Leo's death that makes everything more painful. Leo didn't die in his sleep. He didn't die happy. He didn't die fearless. Leo Dalton died knowing that was the end. He died risking his life for you and proving to you that not everyone in this world is out to hurt you.

"Harry... Leo's dead."

_Silence._

Torturous, slow, painful silence.

You faintly hear his footsteps against flooring as he paces around his home. You grip the phone tighter in fear that the line will break at any second, and find bittersweet comfort in the fact that you can hear his shuddering breaths.

"Harry?"

"I'm here," he says at last. "I'm still here."

It sounds like he's trying to reassure you in some way; an attempt to tell you that he never really left in the first place. His words after that come out in a sort of rush, like they're barely forming in his brain before tumbling from his mouth.

"I... I can't stay here. I need to be there. I'll erm... I'll sort it out, Nikki, everything's going to be fine."

He goes quiet again, as if lost in the darkness of thought, the silent void that remains is somewhat un-Harry. You didn't expect your first conversation in God knows how many months to pan out quite like this; the hollow promise of a reunion and the occasional lapse in conversation, perhaps, but not the tears. At least, not _his _tears. The next sound to grace your eardrums is an unexpected one: the zip of a suitcase, then the crash of items being thrown inside it haphazardly with Harry's free hand.

"What are you doing?" You ask, barely anticipating an answer.

"I'm coming home," Harry says without hesitation. An unwelcomed tingle runs up your spine. "I need to say goodbye."

The line goes dead. You resort to silence once more.

The only sound being your thundering heartbeats upon realising you'll see him again.

You're not alone.

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**Part 2 will be up as soon as I've written it. Reviews would be heavenly. x x x**


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry this took so long, writer's block was being a bitch again.

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**Dance On Our Graves: Part 2  
**_When we see the light when we're going home,  
We'll dance on our graves with our bodies below._

_Panic sets in your being once again. You clench your fists and get ready to run after him. You're shaking so much it's almost painful and Jack's grip on your arm gets tighter with every step you take. He drags you backwards and holds you so you can't move. So you can't save him._

_You hear the screams. It takes you a few seconds to realise your own voice can be heard too. You scream until you run out of breath, you scream until it's too late._

_"Leo! Leo, no!"_

_More screams. More tears. More attempts at breaking free from Jack's grasp._

_You see Leo's eyes; so full of fear and worry. Though, lurking deep within, in those few seconds, you witness a flash of determination. _

_If only you could reach out and... _**BANG**.

_You feel the familiar dull ache in your head and the ringing in your ears. The smoke engulfs you until you can barely see. Barely think. Barely breathe._

_You look away and beg for it to be over... But the explosions don't stop this time._

_They get closer and closer and closer until you hear a voice, so painfully familiar it hurts to listen, breaking through the noise._

_"Nikki?"_

Reality crashes down upon you with the force of a canonball when your tired eyes flicker open. Sitting up on the couch, your attention is drawn to a voice coming from the other side of your door. A fist makes contact with the wood once again, the same voice still shouting your name. Wiping the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand, you check the time. You've been asleep for hours.

You rise to your feet slowly, carefully, in fear of falling from exhaustion. Stumbling to the door through the darkness of your home, you stop for a second, your hand firmly clenched around the handle.

What will you say? If he asks you to explain what happened, _how_ it happened, how will you ever find the words to sum up such a traumatic experience?

You're usually so good at this kind of thing. It's your job. You state how others have died. You explain exactly what it was that ended their life. But you can never really reach a conclusion as to _why_ it had to happen, no matter how often you contemplate a reason or beg for answers.

Sometimes people die. And, in your experience, the reasons behind it all never really provide much comfort anyway.

Despite the darkness surrounding you, you know Harry can see you through the frosted glass embedded in the wooden plank of your door. His figure is a shadow in the streetlights, faintly illuminated by the moon in the sky and the usual glow his presence emits.

You take a deep breath and attempt in vain to steady the rapid beats of your tortured heart. Slowly, cautiously, the door opens without so much as a creak into the silence, and you're faced with a sight you'd rather live without. It's a wonder you couldn't hear the strain in Harry's voice as he called your name, as the tears resting unbidden in his eyes hint at his futile efforts to remain strong.

A silence settles quickly, thickening like a heavy cloud, and for a moment you simply stare at each other; your eyes saying all the things your mouths wouldn't dare emit. Breaking the gaze, you turn and walk back into your living room without a word, leaving the door open for Harry to enter. He does, and lingers in the doorway staring at you.

"I'm sorry, Nikki," he says, his voice hoarse and strained and barely audible. "I shouldn't have left in the first place."

"No. You shouldn't have," You reply coldly, but your strong facade slips ever so slightly, and you begin to cry once again. "I was there, Harry. I was there every day when Leo missed you, even though he'd never fully admit it. I was there during the last days of his life and I was there when he died. And where were you? Busy shagging the majority of New York's finest. He needed you. _I needed you._"

"Please," he sighs. "Please don't make this any more difficult than it already is."

The sadness within you suddenly morphs into an irrepressible anger, and it takes every sliver of strength you possess not to scream.

"Shit, yes, I forgot how difficult this has been for you. What with your fancy new job and lifestyle and blissful unawareness of the circumstances back here. I'm sorry for adding to your stress. Perhaps I shouldn't have called you at all. It's not like you care."

Harry takes a step closer to you until all you can see of him is the outline of his face in the glow from the slightly partitioned curtains. The lack of light turns eerie, and you feel that one wrong turn in conversation could leave you lost in the darkness.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me I don't care," He growls, taking another step towards you until you're almost touching and invading your personal space as if he never left it. As if he never left you behind at all. "I care more than you could ever know. You're not the only one who lost a father figure, Nikki. You have no idea how much I wanted to come back to you both."

"Then why didn't you come back?!" Raised ever so slightly, your voice builds up its strength once again, and the power of it stuns you to silence.

You ponder, quietly, how your friendship with Harry had ended up like this. Yes, he left. Yes, Leo died. But surely that doesn't mean you can't build something upon the fragmented remains of the best years of your life. You've always disagreed on things. Whether it be a case or what film to watch on a friday night. But he's never made you cry. Well, not that you know of. He's made your heart hurt, but never before now has he shattered it into so many little pieces. Your arguments in the past had been safe because there was never the chance of one of you turning around and leaving forever. But now that almost becomes a certainty. Leo isn't here to pick up the pieces this time. He isn't here to act as the glue that holds you together anymore.

"You never asked me to!"

"I thought I could survive without you..." You visibly falter and crumble beneath his gaze. Turning your back to him, you release a shaking breath and run a trembling hand through your disheveled hair.

"You call this surviving?" He asks inquisitively.

"Our almost-instinct..." you whisper, Leo's words crashing down and resonating in your mind. The memories cause a bittersweet comfort mixed with inexplicable sadness when you realise this is not what he would've wanted. You turn to look at Harry once more and sigh. "Almost true."

"What can I do, Niks?" His doesn't look at you like you're going crazy (even though that's how you feel). He doesn't treat you as if you're a pathetic, fragile piece of china. He touches you for the first time in just over a year; his fingers gripping your upper arms to remind you he's still here. He gazes into your eyes imploringly; desperately searching for a cure to this mess as if you're the one who holds all the answers. "Tell me. What do you want me to do?"

"Stay."

His face is a picture of relief, lingering behind a hint of surprise, and even beneath all that, you're almost certain you can see the tug of a smile at the corners of his mouth. His forehead meets yours and you close your eyes, breathe in his scent, and before you know it, his lips are gently brushing against your own. You give in, kissing him like it's the only thing keeping you alive. (Because face it, it kind of is at the moment.) And when his hands slide from your arms to your waist and pull you closer, you can't help but wonder how you ever managed to survive without this feeling.

And when his lips leave yours and brush against your ear, he tells you he'll "never ever leave you again. Not in a million years."

That's when Leo's borrowed words of wisdom really start to make sense; it was a promise.

It was his legacy.

Because, after all, _what survives of us is love,_ isn't it?

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Lyrics belong to Paper Route and I'm so sorry, even I'll admit this chapter didn't end up as great as I'd hoped it would. A review would be fabulous nonetheless. :P xo


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